Why is it that when I start to feel alive,
It feels like the wrong thing to do?

Why is it that I am convinced that I don't deserve the greatness I'm gifted?

Why is it that the warmth I feel is always quickly faded and frozen?

Why is it that when it feels like the final victory, the war is just beginning?

Why is it that I am secretly the monster I swore to despise?

~S.C. Kelley

I wonder what it's like
to be a tree in a storm.
To have settled roots,
that hold you steady.
To have grown so high,
and progressed so much.

I wonder what  it's like
to be a tree in a storm.
Having to bend and lean
with the comings of the wind.
Having to feel parts of you
leave.

I wonder what it's like
to be a tree in a storm.
Everything could be taken
with a single bolt of passion.
Or to have to be on edge
for the hurricane season.

I live the life
of a tree in the storm.
But, I must say, it's worth it all
just for the thrill of the fall.

Curiosity killed the cat but I want to know why
A thirst for knowledge that I can't deny
A lifetime of questions in search of the truth
Words are just letters, in the action lies the proof

Harsh truth I can handle, pretty lies I cannot
Moralistic minds, traits that time forgot
Say what you feel and act how you think
Keep it real and the connection stays in sync

why is it that i want to ask you every question known to man
yet not have any courage to go through with the action of asking?
it might be that i am scared that my curiosity may scare you away
or possibly because i am scared of you never wanting to answer
but either way i'm scared and just wanting to know how you work
i want to ask you why you don't believe god and what spiritual path you think you will follow
i want to ask you why you love math so much and how it can bring such a smile onto that face of yours
i want to ask you why you love that one film so much and what about it makes you laugh so much
i want to ask you why you are so scared to let people in and why you apologize for everything regardless of whether it's your fault or not
i want to ask what makes your depression and anxiety worse and what i can do to the best of my ability to make it easier
i want to ask you how you could've gone your entire life without anyone showing you just pure love
i want to ask you how you tick and what makes you run
i want to see your entire painting and see if i ever appear on it, even if just in a form of a hue
i wish i had the courage to ask you these things and so many others
but i don't know how you could ever feel about my curious soul

Answers float,
never heard, never seen.

Outside the boat
where no man has been.

They wait for a question
to hook them aboard.

Unless asked with intention,
they will always be ignored.

So begin the quest
of childlike curiosity.

The truth will impress,
giving new luminosity.